


on love: storge

by oakleaf



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Katsuki Yuuri, Gen, Implied Aromantic Character, Light Angst, Minor or Background relationships refers to the Nishigoris, spoilers for episode 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8346241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oakleaf/pseuds/oakleaf
Summary: Eros is a sexual love; agape is an unconditional one.Storge is a love based on friendship rather than passion.--Episode three through the lens of an asexual Yuuri.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Summary was updated day after posting. 
> 
> There's more that I want to say about this fic than I think anyone wants to read, so I've [left my thoughts on my tumblr](https://oakleaffic.tumblr.com/post/152150444802/on-love-storge-notes-for-fic). This is a deeply personal piece and as such, **the experiences described here are not indicative of the experiences of asexuals/aromantics, as everyone experiences this differently.**  
>  If you're curious, Google is your friend. 
> 
> ETA: aterriblethought on tumblr wrote [a great meta about asexual Yuuri](http://aterriblethought.tumblr.com/post/152803651417/yuri-katsuki-is-a-spec) that may be of interest to some of you.
> 
> Enjoy, and please leave a comment/concrit on your way out <3.
> 
> [Edited 30/11/2016 for style]

When Victor tells him he’s dancing to Eros, he kind of wants to say, _that’s not me and it’s never been me, even if I didn’t know it_.

But it’s sort of a strange calm that settles over him. He can act – he’s spent his whole life imitating others first, finding himself later. He can do this.

-

Yuuri is fourteen.

A week ago, Yuuko had pulled him aside at the rink and told him that Nishigori asked her out and they were going on a date to the movies, and how exciting was that? He had smiled, wide. He’d seen Nishigori pacing around the boy’s changing room, muttering to himself, shoulders hunched. Had asked him what was going on and received a rushed “I’m going to ask her out” in response.

Yuuri had laughed, urging him to do it, pushing him out onto the rink before he could rethink his decision.

Today, Yuuko sends him an instant message, pinging on his desktop while his mother is looking after guests.

> yuuri you’ll never guess what happened

< What?

> we went to the movies and we saw ratatouille and it was super cute

They keep chatting, Yuuko gushing about how great her date was and Yuuri grinning from ear to ear, happy that his rinkmates, his best friends, had found each other.

-

Watching Victor skate in person is like seeing a fairytale being spun by dance rather than words. Yuuri has had years of practice watching Victor float on the ice, but never with the real deal right in front of him. Never like this.

Part of Yuuri is concentrating on the motions. The positioning of the arms, the steps, the jumps. Another part of him is transported into the fairytale town. He can almost see the beautiful woman dancing just out of reach of Victor’s grasp, then their intimacy and Victor casting her off as he leaves.

He has never seduced anyone before, he realises, as Victor calls him onto the ice. Somehow, he will have to find the feeling in a week.

-

Yuuri is twenty.

He’s older, has the freedom of not living at home. But somehow he’s still not taken (or even wants to take) advantage of that and go and meet people, hook up, date. All of that makes no sense to him.

He’d been waiting to grow up, mature, be ready before he experiences all of that, and he realises – what if I’m never ready?

He googles it, “what does it mean if I don’t want to have sex” and clicks through the pages. There’s a ton on what to do if you used to have sex, but now you don’t want to, but there are also hits that use this word – ‘asexual’ – and well. There are some people who describe finding that word as coming home. Some people think that it makes them whole.

But Yuuri has never felt like that there was anything wrong. He just thought he was a really late bloomer, that not being into girls or guys was just something he’d grow out of. But the thought that he could stay that way, that some people thought it was weird – that stuck in his brain.

-

Yuuri is exhausted from full days of training, thinking about love – sexual, unconditional; romantic, lustful. Trying to capture the seductive nature of the dance feels like he’s reaching towards the woman in the fairytale, but in this world, she never falls prey to his charms. Instead she laughs and dances lightly away from his outstretched hand as he reaches for the experience he doesn’t think he has.

He isn’t even thinking when the words “Eros is a bowl of katsudon” slip from his lips and he bolts for the door. And even as he runs he thinks.

_I thought I was over this. I thought I’d worked it out._

There’s a familiar wave of crackling terror under his skin, a tugging in his chest that makes it hard to catch his breath. He knows this feeling like he knows how to stand with ice under his feet.

_You’re not good enough, don’t know enough, aren’t whole enough._

And before too long he’s standing outside the Hatetsu Ice Castle, and he scrambles inside for a respite from the cold, absently going through the motions of getting ready before he just sits down on the bench in the changing room and stops.

There’s a few beats, seconds, minutes, where Yuuri just stays still, head bowed, trying to get himself, trying to get his emotions under control, breathing in, out, in, out.

In.

Out.

And then he puts on his skates and enters the rink.

There are no flashy moves tonight, none of his choreography for the upcoming competition. Just the sound of his skates cutting over the ice beneath his feet and the swirling thoughts in his head fading as his swirling feet trace the figure of eight on the ground over and over and over.

-

Yuuri is twenty-one.

Yuuri doesn’t think, just dials the number he’s had memorised for years.

“Hatetsu Ice Castle, Nishigori speaking, how may I help you?”

“Yuuko-san, it’s Yuuri. Are you free to talk?”

“Give me a second,” she says. Yuuri can hear rustling on the other end, the soft closing of the door. “Yuuri, are you ok?”

“I don’t know,” he says, honestly.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure how to talk about it,” Yuuri says, “Um. Can we talk about what’s happening in Hatetsu? I don’t know. Um. I don’t know.”

Yuuko, bless her, starts talking about her children. Talks about the new skaters, the rink. Talks about visiting Vicchan when she could.

“Sorry I’m bothering you,” he says, while she thinks of her next topic.

“No, no. It’s fine. Are you feeling better?”

“How did you know you loved Takeshi?” he blurts out in response. Before he can take it back, she starts talking.

-

Yuuri knows what it looks like Victor is doing. Despite never having dated a girl or a boy or anyone, he’s acutely aware of how close Victor is and how his words can be taken. Yuuri knows he could push back, should push back.

What he does instead is he lets it happen. He lets Victor touch him, fingers lightly caressing his lips, face, correcting his posture with a hand on the small of his back. There is something comforting about the closeness and the physicality, but also something vaguely dangerous, terrifying.

-

Yuuri is twenty-two.

Yuuri might not be the most masculine, the most handsome, but he knows he’s got a boyish and innocent air about him, and the lean musculature that comes with being an athlete. People look, and they _look_ , and he doesn’t let on that he knows there are eyes on him. At the parties he does get dragged to, he doesn’t say much, manages a few sentences of small talk here and there.

Yuuri’s seen it happen, hands getting closer and bodies bumping lightly, wistful gazes and sharp smiles.

He’s not oblivious, he’s done his time in the anatomy labs. He knows the mechanics. It’s just that every time he thinks about it, he feels a wave of vague discomfort come crashing through his chest. Not quite nausea, but close. It’s fine. He’s not alone in this, he knows it, has known it for a while.

It’s fine.

-

Yuuri has worn his fair share of costumes over the years, but opening the boxes of Victor’s old costumes is another experience entirely. There is something that feels inherently extravagant about them, glitter and gems and sequins seemingly glowing even without needing the bright lights of the ice rink.

He’s sure that Victor and Yuri are picking up on his fanboy past (and present, if he’s completely honest) as he goes through the suitcases, naming the events that the most famous had appeared in. Victor occasionally interjects with little morsels of knowledge, sometimes inane (“I wanted it to be purple and orange at the time but luckily the costume department vetoed that”), sometimes insightful (“I was going through a phase where I wanted to dance to rock music but my coach said no, so I tried to channel rock fashion of the time”).

When he sees _it_ , Yuuri is immediately hit with the memory of watching _that_ routine. The first program to take his breath away. He’d wondered at the time who Victor was trying to run to, or from. And he realises – he doesn’t have to do the chasing.

-

Yuuri is eighteen.

He sits in the kitchen with the others on his floor gathered around the television as they watch the football. It’s kind of comfortable, but Yuuri still feels like an outsider. Around classes and study and training, he doesn’t really get to see them very often.

During half time, one of them pulls out their phone and boots up tinder. Everyone crowds around, judging the girls’ profiles together. Yuuri makes his way over to them, arching over the pack to see what all the fuss was about.

“Hey, Yuuri, what do you think of this girl?”

“She’s very… pretty.”

“Would you do her?”

“Um. I don’t know,” he answers, honestly.

“Awww, don’t be shy.” The guy asking him questions ruffles his hair and goes back to deciding if they should swipe left or right.

-

Just before it’s his turn to skate, Yuuri finds himself rinkside and struggling to keep a steady rhythm. He can almost feel the adrenaline rushing though his veins, making him jittery and nervous, ready to be skating and ready to jump out of his body all in the same rushed breath. But then Victor appears and like a jolt of electricity, everything starts to reset itself.

Yuuri throws his arms over Victor’s body because he’s suddenly feeling brave. It’s the clothes – falling back into his body brings back the sensation of the silky borrowed skating costume, and he feels the fragile mask of confidence he associates with imitating Victor sliding into place. Suddenly, it feels like the skin-tight suit is straightening his spine, pulling him up to his full height. His breathing is quiet but steady, and for once in his skating career, he is not afraid to step onto the ice.

-

Yuuri is twenty-three.

He’s just skated his idol’s routine in front of his childhood best friend. During the routine, he’d been hyper-focussed on getting all the moves right and it’s only now that he lets the full wave of love, melancholy, reflection that he associates with this program to crash through him.

Yuuko yelling brings him back down to earth and he faces her.

“Yuu-chan, I’ve always –” _wanted to thank you for helping me find passion in skating, for picking up my 2am phone calls, for everything._ That’s what he wants to say, but he’s cut off by the appearance of the Nishigori family and something that feels suspiciously like coming home.

-

_Who am I skating for?_

_I know. It’s Victor._

_To seduce him, if it’s the best (only) way to get him to stay –_

-

Yuuri holds his body as still as he can as the music fades out and the cheers fade in. There’s a pressure just under his skin, buzzing, from the Eros he’d imagined directed at him. It fades, slowly, like he’s been staring into the sun and only just averted his eyes. It’s intensely unnerving and makes him want to squirm out of the costume, out of his skin, if he could.

Instead, he waves at the audience, pushing that feeling to the back of his mind as he tries to let his relief at finishing the routine wash over him instead, calming the uncomfortable tickling sensation.

He can feel Victor’s gaze boring into him even as he puts off facing his possible future coach for as long as possible, before the distinctive voice drags him to the side of the rink.

And Yuuri finds that he apparently still has energy to be surprised, because instead of freezing when Victor hugs him, a quiet calm settles into his bones, diffusing through his tired muscles like milk in hot coffee, grounding him.

It’s only a heartbeat later when Victor releases him and goes off, berating him for all of his errors, and it – somehow it makes him want to laugh, chasing away the last of the lingering discomfort, for now.


End file.
